Marcus Brody and the Great Search
by atoz
Summary: When Indy is captured by the Nazis, only Marcus Brody can save him!
1. Chapter 1

Marcus Brody and the Great Search

Chapter 1

The Capture

Disclaimer: I do not own anything relating to Indiana Jones

Author's note: This takes place immediately after "The Last Crusade"

"I really do enjoy this place. It's nice and fancy. And you know how much I love nice and fancy places."

"See? Now you know I'm being serious when I tell you that I'm willing to do anything for you."

Betty smiled. "We'll see."

Indiana Jones took another sip from his wine glass. He did not care much for the glamorous atmosphere of the restaurant. Everywhere he turned, he was surrounded by aristocrats, talking idly about mundane affairs, laughing every so often at a joke only they would find funny. Then again, he also felt on edge being in Austria under Nazi occupation.

However, this was not about him; this was about Betty. She looked so beautiful in her red silk dress that Indy could not keep his eyes off her. The orchestra played soft music in the background, making the moment even more romantic.

"Why don't we ditch this place?" Indy asked with a smile.

Betty smiled back. "We really should wait for dessert. Dessert is, after all, my favorite meal."

Indy sighed. He had been waiting for the opportunity to take Betty to bed but there always seemed to be something else that she wanted to do. _Don't worry,_ Indy reassured himself. _It'll only be a matter of time. No one—no woman—can resist my charms._

He was smiling to himself, thinking about the fun night he was going to have when the music was cut off, replaced by a series of gasps and screams. Before he had the time to react, German soldiers were surrounding his table, pointing guns at him and Betty. His mind raced, trying to consider possible escape routes, when he realized that he was not only outnumbered but that he left all his trademark items back at the hotel.

A group of soldiers parted a way for a Nazi official. His immaculate black uniform made Indy shiver. _The Gestapo._

The Gestapo member set his hands on the table and leaned forward towards Indy, flashing a sadistic smile. "Surprised to see us, Doktor Zhones?"

_Great, _Indy thought, _another Nazi with a shrilling, heavy accent_. "No. I've seen your kind plenty of times before. I'm already familiar with your routines."

"Zan it von't be a surprise ven I ask you to come vis us."

"Why should I?" Indy asked, folding his arms in a defiant manner. "What is this about?"

"Come vis us," the Gestapo member said, pulling out his luger, "or ze girl dies."

He pointed barrel of the gun at Betty's head. She screamed.

"I vill give you to ze count of sree. Vone. Two. . . "

Indy's eyes darted around him. The situation seemed hopeless and by the expression of the Nazi, he did not seem to be bluffing either.

"Fine!" Indy exclaimed. He raised his arms up in the air. "Take me, but don't hurt her."

"Very goot," the Nazi said with the same sadistic smile. "Zan you von't be surprised ven ve take you und your girlfriend avay in a stylish Mercedes."

"Where are we going?" Indy asked.

"Vhy Doktor Zhones, if you really have had run ins vis us, san you probably can make a goot guess, ja?"

Indy sighed, fearing the worst.


	2. Chapter 2: The Mysterious Woman

Chapter 2

The Mysterious Woman

Marcus Brody shifted the picture he had of his mother for the nth time on the bureau. He then sat heavily down on his bed and sighed. It was not that he did not appreciate Indy bringing him on one of his archeological expeditions, but he felt so homesick. He tried to bring as much of "home" as he could with him, packing over ten suitcases, and would try to situate them as they would be in his house. However, the changes were too extreme to try to cover up. Even so, he felt that the only reason he and Indy stopped in Austria was to see one of his girlfriends.

With not much else to do, Marcus was deciding to go to bed early when there was a knock at the door. _Maybe it's Indiana,_ Marcus thought as he opened it.

A woman stood on the other side, her face flushed and hair disheveled. "Let me in," she said out of breath.

"Oh, of course," Marcus said, opening the door wider to let her through. "My, you do look exhausted. Would you like a glass of water?"

"No," the woman said quickly, closing the door herself behind her. She then ran across the room to a window where she closed the drapes.

"How about some tea, then?" Marcus suggested.

She scanned the room and when she seemed satisfied, turned back to Marcus. "Marcus Brody, your colleague, Indiana Jones, is in trouble."

Marcus hesitated for a moment. "Are you one of his girlfriends?"

The woman narrowed her eyes, "No, but I do know him."

"Oh, good," Marcus sighed, "but I know it's going to happen. One of these days, a woman is going—"

"I don't have time for zis!"

"You're Austrian, aren't you?" Marcus said, noting the slight accent.

"As I said," the woman said, ignoring him, "Indiana Jones is having somezing far worse zan problems with women—ze Nazis have captured him."

"Oh, dear! Not the Nazis! I really don't like them."

She nodded her head. Her voice became softer. "Zey are going to force him to bring zem to some dig site he has been working at. If he refuses, zey will kill him. If he does take zem to the site, zan it may be ze end of ze free world as we know it."

"I . . ." Marcus stopped himself, thinking for a moment. "Now . . . what did you say your name was, again?"

The woman's eyes flared. "It does not matter! We must leave!"

"But, but where are we going?"

"You do know where ze dig site is, don't you?"

"Actually . . . I've heard Indiana talk about it."

"But you don't know."

"No. But-but there shouldn't be much there. Indiana only said something about some old rocks."

"Zere is more zere zan just rocks."

"What?"

"Never mind. In any case, I'm going to leave for ze restaurant. Perhaps someone zere knows somezing."

The woman walked to the door.

"Wait!" Marcus called. "Can I come, too?"

"You?" the woman said belittling.

"Well, I am Indiana's friend, after all. If he is in trouble, I hope to do something about it."

"It might actually be better if you were to stay here."

"Nonsense!" Marcus Brody laughed, reaching for his hat. "I'm ready for an adventure!"

The woman rolled her eyes. "Fine. Ze restaurant is not far and by car, we will arrive shortly. Just try not to get in ze way, Mr. Brody."

Marcus nodded. "Wait!" he called out when the woman was about to walk through the door a second time.

"What?" she said with evident irritation.

"What is your name? I don't to call you "you" the whole time."

"My name is Helga von Himmdrich. You should call me Frau von Himmdrich in public. Now, come on."


	3. Chapter 3: The Restaurant

Chapter 3

The Restaurant

A car pulled up along a curve, only a short distance away from the restaurant where Indy and Betty had eaten dinner. The driver's side car door opened and Helga von Himmdrich determinedly stepped out. Immediately afterward, the door on the passenger's side opened where Marcus Brody followed in suit.

"Now remember," von Himmdrich whispered to him, "just stay out of ze way and everyzing will go fine."

Marcus nodded. "Don't worry, I won't do anything rash."

They slowly began to make their way to the restaurant when von Himmdrich suddenly stopped.

"Now Mr. Brody," she said in a whisper, "we don't want to get close to ze guards so we should—"

However, Marcus was not listening to her. Instead, he continued walking towards the restaurant—and towards the guards.

"Wait!" von Himmdrich hissed, but Marcus was already there, climbing the steps to the restaurant's entrance. She ran after him.

"Halt!" one of the guards commanded before Marcus arrived at the last step.

Despite the guard's imposing height, black uniform of the SS, and a rifle in his hands, Marcus showed no fear. He stood unwavering in front of the German and even managed to give a friendly smile.

"Can I go in?" Marcus asked politely.

"Nein," the guard replied.

Marcus glanced at his watch. "What happens at nine?"

The guard rolled his eyes. "Amerikans," he murmured.

"What was that?" asked Marcus, cupping his hand to his ear.

"You can't go in!" the guard snapped.

"Oh."

"Marcus!"

Marcus recognized the voice as belonging to Helga and heard her footsteps rushing towards him. He felt her grab his arm, pulling him away.

"They won't let us in," Marcus explained, but von Himmdrich did not seem to hear him. She continued to pull him away, looking away from the restaurant.

Suddenly, a guard cried out. Marcus did not understand German but he felt Helga hesitate for a moment and tighten her grip on him. When Marcus turned back, the guards had straightened their positions while the one that Marcus had talked to was running over to them.

"Helga, I mean von Himmdrich," Marcus stumbled.

"What?" von Himmdrich coarsely asked.

"I think that—"

But the guard was already there, situating himself in front of Helga. He bowed to her slightly and began to speak German. Marcus was about to tell him that he did not speak German but Helga responded instead in the same language. Only a few words were exchanged before the guard saluted, saying "Heil Hitler," and returned to his post. Von Himmdrich released the grip on Marcus' arm and turned back to him.

"Zey'll let us in now," she said, proceeding to the restaurant's entrance.

Marcus could not move for a moment, stunned by what just happened. He ran over in order to catch up with her. "But-but what happened?"

Helga grabbed Marcus' arm again as they passed two guards posted at the door. She acknowledged them with a nod before stepping inside.

The restaurant was quite fancy with a carpeted floor, chandeliers, and lush draperies. However, much of it was spoiled with the presence of so many Nazis. Some were searching the area, scanning the floor, overturning the tables, and tearing down the curtains. Others were questioning the restaurant workers and even the guests. On the whole, there appeared to be much chaos within this small atmosphere.

"You still have not answered my question," Marcus stated.

Helga tightened her grip and led Marcus to a corner of the restaurant, away from everyone else.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Why did they let us in?" Marcus asked, nervously. "They would not let me in alone, but when the guard talked to you, we were both let in. What did you say?"

"Well . . ." von Himdrich hesitated, "zere is a perfectly good reason why we were let in."

Marcus nodded his head, encouraging her to explain further.

"I told zem zat I was ze wife of an important German official and zat you were my brozer-in-law, so we were let in," she said confidently.

"Oh," Marcus said, sounding satisfied.

"Alright then, we should—"

"But won't we get into trouble if they find out you really aren't the wife of some German official?"

Von Himdrich let out a long, irritated sigh. "Mr. Brody, if you want to help me, zen much of what we will be doing would get us arrested or even shot. You need to learn to take risks and anyzing zat zey might believe, like myself being a wife of an important German official, must be used to get ze job done."

"That is true. I just . . ."

"Just what?"

"Never mind."

"Well, if you have nozing to say, zan we should get underway."

When they headed back to the main dinning area, Marcus approached a table. He scanned it intently before turning back to Helga.

"Do you think they sat here?" he asked.

"It does not matter," Helga replied.

"Well, Indiana must have left behind some sort of clue."

"You mean he might have left a clue of his whereabouts?" Helga asked interested.

"Sure!"

Helga brushed past Marcus. She leaned herself close to the table's surface, examining it.

"We can only hope zat ze Nazis did not get to it first!" she said in a voice hushed but filled with excitement.

"Actually . . ."

Helga groaned, straitening herself before turning back to Marcus.

"What?" she asked annoyed.

"Well . . . he's never done it before."

Helga rolled her eyes. "Zan what makes you sink zat he did zat?"

Marcus turned his head dejectedly to the ground and shuffled his feet. "It's a possibility."

"I zink it is much more likely zat someone here knows somezing."

"Like who?"

"Like him."

Marcus looked up and turned his head in the direction where von Himdrich was staring—a chef was leaning against a wall, staring back. Helga started to approach him, while Marcus trailed along behind.

The man jerked his head to the side and began to walk in that direction. Helga and Marcus followed him until they were led into one of the kitchens. Apart from themselves, it was empty.

"Who are you?" Helga demanded.

"Whoo I am doos noot matter," the chef said in a slight, lilting Swedish accent. He turned to Marcus. "Yoo are Marcoos Broody, Indiana's best friend, are yoo noot?"

"Why, yes I am," Marcus replied, surprised, "but how did you—"

"Sere is noot mooch time," the chef interrupted. He gave a covert glance at Helga. "Can she be troosted?"

"She's my friend."

"Alright, I'll try to make sis quick. Indiana has been captoored by se Nazis."

"We know zat!" Helga said angrily.

"_And_ I knoow where yoo can find him."

"Where?" Helga questioned eagerly.

"Sere is a restaurant in Swooeeden owned by my coosin, Shmitty. Here, I'll write doon soome directioons." The chef pulled out a pad of paper and pencil from a pocket in his apron. He quickly scribbled on it, handing the paper to Marcus. "Find se restaurant and yoo find Shmitty; find Shmitty and yoo find Indiana."

Before Marcus could read the paper, Helga snatched it from his hands. She frowned at the Swedish chef.

"Where did you get zis information from?"

"Indiana Jones is a friend oof Shmitty," he said in an earnest manner, "and any friend oof my cousin is a friend oof mine. I alsoo knoow for a fact sat he has been dooing soome digs oover in Swooeeden. My biggest guess is sat soose digs have gootten soome unwanted attentioon. In any case, Shmitty shood knoow moore."

Helga's eyes narrowed. "How do we know we can trust you?"

"Don't worry," Marcus said optimistically, "he's a chef!"

Helga and the chef glanced awkwardly at Marcus before turning back to each other. The chef shrugged his shoulders. "Whoo else can yoo trust?"


	4. Chapter 4: Two By Two

Chapter 4

Two By Two

Once again, Indiana Jones found himself observing his surroundings. He had already determined that there was no chance of escape at this time but it was always in his nature not to accept things as they came. He was a man of action and hated the feeling of being powerless. However, a heavily-armored train was indeed one of those things that could not be easily broken out of.

The room had no windows, barricaded doors, and three SS guards, one standing right next to him. And to make things even worse, Indy had nothing in his possession that could be used as a weapon.

He sighed. _I can't believe it! _he thought. _The Nazis seem to have everything planned out so well, for once. Someone must have known that me and Betty were eating at that restaurant. There's no way they could have captured me without my trademark stuff and this train must have been prepared in advance for me._

Suddenly, a door at one of the ends was being unlocked. All the guards straightened up as it opened. A man wearing a typical SS officer's uniform—complete with trench coat—entered. A Nazi guard stationed at the door clicked his heels and saluted. The strange man did not seem to notice the guard and walked up to Indy, sitting in a vacant seat across from him. As Indy stared into the man's pasty complexion with thin, grey lips, high cheek bones, and sunken-in fierce blue eyes, he knew he was dealing with the typical, creepy Nazi.

"Doktor Jones," the man said, grinning, "I haff heard so much about you. You do haff quite a reputation in Deutsch. . . I mean, Germany. I never sought I vould haff ze chance to meet you like zis in person, but now here you are."

The man extended a gloved hand. Indy folded his arms.

"What d'you want?" Indy asked bitterly.

The man chuckled and leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs. "You don't haff to be rude. In fact, perhaps if you were more cooperative, ve vould reach our goals sooner."

"Cooperative!" Indy exclaimed. "You know I'll never cooperate with you! Besides, I still don't even know why the hell you guys captured me. What is it that you guys could possibly want?"

The man shook his head. "Really, I'm ze one interrogating you, not ze ozer vay around. Any time zat you may forget zat, I'm certain zat vone of ze guards vould be glad to remind you of your place."

The man gestured to the guard closest to Indy, who in turn gave the world-famous archeologist a fiendish grin.

"But," the interrogator continued, "if you really can't figure out vhy you vere captured, I vill tell you."

"Humor me," Indy said sourly.

"Very vell. Our intelligence has told us zat you haff been vorking on some secret dig site. Vhere is it?"

Indy did not even try to suppress his laughter.

"Doktor Jones," the Nazi sighed, "I hardly find zis to be amusing, considering your situation."

Indy tried to speak, but the laughter was too much. He had to take in a few deep breaths before he was able to respond. "I guess that Nazi intelligence is an oxymoron! Look, there is no secret dig site. Yes, I have been digging, but I've been keeping it quiet because of all the publicity I've been receiving recently."

The man leaned in closer, tilting his head downwards and rolling his eyes upward to keep a demented-looking gaze on Indy. "Ze dig site is in Sveden, is it not?" he said in a frighteningly-calm voice. "Tell me vhere."

Indy's laughter disappeared and countenance became much more serious as the man continued his evil glare.

"I can't believe this," Indy murmured. "Look here, Fritz or Klaus or whoever you are, you Krauts are getting paranoid! There's nothing there except some old pottery shards that I was planning on giving to my friend Marcus for his birthday. It isn't like you're going to find anything there that will enable your Fuehrer to take over the world."

Indy laughed again, but when his interrogator's face remained the same, it died into a nervous chuckled.

Suddenly, the Nazi leaned back in his seat, relaxing his face to an emotionless gaze before up turning his lips into a false smile. "You sink you're so clever, don't you? 'Nazi intelligence is an oxymoron' und 'Fritz or Klaus'. Really, if you vere shmart, you vould not make such comments. You don't even know who I am, do you?"

"I don't care who you are, all you Nazis are the same to me."

"It is not very often you are interrogated by someone who receives orders directly from the Reichsfuehrer himself und who is responsible for your capture!"

"You mean—"

"Yes, _I_ am in charge of zis whole mission. _I_ vas ze vone who gave ze orders for your capture."

"Let me go," Indy demanded through clenched teeth.

"Doktor Jones," the Nazi sighed, "if you refuse to cooperate—"

"Torturing me or killing me won't get you anywhere!"

"Vhat about Betty?"

Indy could feel the blood draining from his face and his whole body suddenly seemed to fall limp. The Nazi's lips formed a large, malicious grin when he realized he had found Indy's vulnerability.

"Don't you dare!" Indy hissed.

"Or you'll do vhat?" the interrogator said mockingly. "Ze girl is of no use to us. She zhust takes up space und eats our food."

Indy took a deep breath, trying to control himself from punching the Nazi right there. "You won't get away with this. I'm well-known in all countries throughout the globe. They'll realize that I'm gone, and when they do, others will be sent after me."

"Is zat suppose to frighten me?" the man asked. "Besides, your friends may never know."

"What do you mean?"

The Nazi reached into his pocket and pulled out a photograph.

"Do you recognize zis man?" he asked, handing the picture to Indy.

The archeologist only glanced at the photograph. "Well, that's me, unless this is all some sort of a joke."

The Nazi gave a wry smile, then turned to the back of the room. He addressed the guard by the door in German who responded by clicking his heels and opening the door. A man suddenly walked in. Indy's jaw dropped.

"Doktor Jones," the interrogator said, "meet your counterpart."

The other Indiana Jones, dressed in the whole attire (whip, hat, and all), strolled over to the true Indiana Jones, smiled, and winked.


	5. Chapter 5: the Hat, the Whip, and the R

Chapter 5

The Hat, the Whip, and the Rest of It

Marcus felt fortunate that Helga had agreed to let them go back to the hotel. She had wanted to board a plane for Sweden immediately, but when he argued that he had some valuable items that could be of use to them, she agreed to it. _Yes,_ Marcus thought, _very valuable items indeed._

"Marcus!" Helga's muffled voice called out from the other side of the bedroom door. "What are you doing?"

"Changing," Marcus simply replied, removing his bow tie.

"Changing! We went all ze way back to ze hotel—to Indiana's room—so you could change!"

"Yes."

"We need to leave!"

"Don't worry. I won't be long."

Marcus Brody stood in the center of Indiana Jones' bedroom. His gentleman's coat and bow tie lay on the floor, cast away from their owner. He stared at them, for a moment, regretting what he had done, until he remembered why he was there. His eyes strayed from the garments to the closet. Taking a deep breath, Marcus strode over to the closet and opened it.

Right at that precise moment, a shaft of brilliant light came in through a high window, gleaming on the leather jacket and belt hanging next to a bullwhip, with the hat sitting on the shelf above. Marcus slowly took the jacket from its hanger, letting it droop about his hands. The scent of ancient tombs, humid jungles, and dead Nazis permeated from the unwashed garment, filling his nostrils.

Marcus tried to swipe some of the caked dirt from one of the jacket's sleeves before realizing that the caked dirt probably came from some unexplored path in a foreign land. That dirt was meant to be there. Cleaning the jacket would be the same as burning pages from a book—it told a story of all the adventures it had been through with its owner. Marcus cursed his hand for doing such a thing, then cursed himself again for cursing in the first place, and then cursed himself again for cursing himself after he had cursed his hand. Realizing the cursing would go on for infinity, Marcus decided to forget about it and cautiously put on the jacket.

Then, he removed the belt. The belt which always went in conjunction with the brown jacket, like frosting on a cake. The belt dangled from his fingertips, the buckle gleaming in the light. He tightened the belt around his waist and turned back to the beckoning closet.

Next, he reached out and took the whip, holding it like he would a fragile vase. A determined look came into his eyes, and he grasped the whip tight and put it in its place on the belt. Swallowing hard, he looked above his head where the hat was.

_The hat_. Marcus stared at the sacred item that was just within his grasp. Should he take it? Should he touch the thing coveted most by Indiana Jones, who had risked his life many a time to save it? Was he, Marcus Brody, a mere museum curator, worthy of such an honor as to place this crown of its kind on his humbled head?

"Come on!" Helga insisted, her voice louder than before. "We have to go!"

But Marcus continued to stare at the hat until he came to the final decision—he would put it on. Not for glory, not for honor, not for that one small chance to feel that he, an underdog, had come just a bit closer to being like the adventurer he knew was inside of him. He was doing it for Indy—his friend, his companion, the man who had saved his life from every sort of villain out there. _Indiana Jones would not have wanted his fedora to come to such a fate as to wait in the darkness of that closet until the dust would cover it like some forgotten trinket._

Cautiously, very cautiously, Marcus picked up the hat and placed it on his head.

"Marcus!" Hega called out, knocking on the door. "Can we go now?"

"Yes," Marcus replied, in a voice that was not his own. "I'm ready."


	6. Chapter 6: Two Road Blocks

Chapter 6

Two Road Blocks

It was another uneventful day for Adolf Kueller. People checked in. People checked out. People asking recommendations for places to eat, places to have fun, places to see historical sites. Of course, Adolf carried out his duties as assistant manager of one of the fanciest, most popular hotels in Austria with finesse and a friendly smile.

However, what most people did not know about Adolf Kueller was how much he despised it all. He hated rich, snobby aristocrats and their constant belittling of others not within their social realms. He even hated the hotel because it was made exclusively for those types of people. But perhaps most of all, he hated his manager. It was a hatred that ran deep, ever since the old man teased him when he was just a kid. Being his nephew gave him his position as assistant manager which, at the time, seemed advantageous. Adolf had hopes of one day running the hotel for himself. However, it soon became apparent that after his manager died, the business would be carried on to his son, not him.

And so, Adolf was in the middle of considering two assassination plots when Indiana Jones walked through the double-glass doors and to his counter. Despite his loathing of celebrities as well, Adolf rather liked the world-famous archeologist, thinking of him as an exception to his views.

"Welcome back, Doctor Jones!" Adolf said enthusiastically in his perfected English.

Indy flashed his Oscar-winning smile. "Just came back from a dig site."

"Did you find anything?" Adolf inquired, liking to hear about new findings.

"Actually, I just got an emergency call sending me back to America. Something about finding Noah's Ark. So, I wish I could stay longer, but I need to check out."

"Oh, but your friends already checked you out hours ago!"

Indy seemed to hesitate for a moment but then quickly turned away as he was thrown into a coughing fit. Adolf asked if he was all right, but the doctor could not respond. Just when he was considering getting a glass of water, Indiana recovered.

"Which friends are these?" he asked, clearing his throat. "I have many in this area."

"Professor Brody and a woman."

"A woman?"

"Yes, a young woman was with him. I didn't recognize her . . ." Adolf thought for a moment. "She had blonde hair. Blonde hair and . . . grey or green eyes? I'm not certain. Anyway, Marcus checked out, returning his room key and yours."

"Did they say where they would be going?"

Adolf paused. "No. They just said that they were leaving. Come to think of it, they were in quite a hurry." Suddenly, an idea sprang into mind. "Maybe they went to see _you_ at the dig site."

Indy nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like something Marcus would do. Well, then, I'd better be off to meet them."

"Sorry I couldn't have been of any more help. Good luck!"

-----------

Hauptman Streiger rushed through the double glass doors of the hotel, his mind racing. As if his task was not hard enough before, now two friends of Indiana Jones were taking action. _I probably have that assistant manager fooled, even with my fake coughing,_ he thought._ But Brody and the woman must know he disappeared and are now suspicious!_ _And knowing the real Doctor Jones, they'll probably suspect that he was captured by Nazis!_

Streiger crossed the street to a parked car. He entered thorough one of the side doors and slammed it shut.

"Verdammt!" he exclaimed, throwing the true-to-life reproduction of Indiana Jones' hat to the ground.

"What is it?" his chauffeur asked, addressing him in German.

Strieger gave the chauffeur a hard stare. He felt certain that the man was probably a Gestapo agent, making certain that "Indy" was doing the right thing, given orders to execute him if there were any mess ups. Already he had made the mistake of losing his temper, but he knew he was not the one at fault.

"Send me to Gestapo Headquarters," he demanded.

"Is there a problem?" the driver asked, viewing Streiger through a rearview mirror.

"Intelligence made an error," Streiger said determinedly.

Streiger wished he could see his chauffeur's face but he did not turn his head. "Intelligence does not make very many mistakes, if any at all."

Streiger heaved an irritated sigh. Despite the fear of being shot at any moment, he would not allow himself to be coerced. "Really? First, I had to make that appearance on the train just so I could be sent back all the way to Austria to find out that Intelligence was not aware, or did not care to mention, that _two_ others were with Doctor Jones! Send me to Gestapo Headquarters immediately!"

The driver shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant manner and started the car engine. It would be a long drive, but Streiger knew he could not relax. He had to know just what to say to the Gestapo, considering that it was going to be in the form of a complaint, and stay alert just in case the driver decided he was becoming too rebellious or disloyal. However, his mind turned back to what the assistant manager had said.

_Blond . . ._ he thought as the car drove away.


End file.
